


One Little Bit

by elle_nic



Category: Crazy Rich Asians (2018)
Genre: Eleanor is soft as fuck, Eleanor is still impatient, F/F, Feels, Fluff, Kissing, No Angst, Rachel is sleepy, Romance, Softness, and she kinda hates it, but for Rachels she'd do anything, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:03:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_nic/pseuds/elle_nic
Summary: Eleanor is getting soft, but she finds that she doesn't mind all that much.





	One Little Bit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kerrykins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/gifts).



> This is another work for Kerry who has been super helpful and supportive with helping me branch out into the Eleachel ship. You a real one, Kez! <3 :)))

It was late, thought Eleanor, as she reclined on the large bed she and her lover shared. Rachel’s days were longer than usual now that it was assessment time at the university, and though Eleanor would never be caught dead admitting she missed the younger woman… _she missed the younger woman_. Not even her latest choice in novel, some ridiculous study into Asia’s ultra-rich, could keep her mind away from missing her girl.

And she was hers. They had not had an easy relationship, by any stretch of the imagination. Eleanor had had a hard time coming to terms with her attraction because of how she treated Rachel in the beginning. She was ashamed to admit that she held no remorse for Rachel letting Nick’s proposal down. If her son had married Rachel as was his plan… well, Eleanor would have had to make herself very scarce indeed.

 _“Miss Chu.”_ And how pretty had Rachel looked that day she had arrived at her office at the university, in her painfully millennial attire, and with her neat desk and trinkets.

_“Mrs Young? Uh, what- um, what are you doing here? Is Nick okay?”_

_“We have some things to discuss.”_

It had been an uncomfortable experience to have to explain that she had her marriage annulled with her ex-husband’s support. They had grown apart, and after all his time abroad in the West seeing how married people lived, he had agreed they needn’t remain together when they weren’t happy. It was a relief to Eleanor, who had planned on having to fight to keep some of her fortune and the rest of her dignity, especially after her son had stopped speaking to her.

But, Eleanor thought with a soft, barely apparent smile, Rachel had listened. And, more than that, Rachel had understood.

 _“I wasn’t ready to marry Nick, and I don’t think, after all was said and done, that he’d really wanted to marry me either. He told me once that moving away from his family was a sort of rebellion to him. The only sort he’d allow himself.”_ Rachel had stood from her desk and walked around it to Eleanor, who was trying not to become the cold, harsh woman that Ah-ma had made her into.

_“I forgive you, Eleanor.”_

And perhaps, in hindsight, it might have been a bit rash to kiss Rachel in that moment. But, as Eleanor looked around at the bedroom she was in, the bottles of perfume belonging to Rachel, her jewellery box, her robe that she _never hung up_ … Well, it had certainly all worked out.

But really, it _was_ getting _very_ late.

Picking up her phone, Eleanor dialled the first name in her recent calls log. She only had to wait half a ring before she was answered.

“I know! It’s really late and I’m really sorry!”

“You have kept me waiting, Rachel,” she said in the imperious tone that Rachel seemed to enjoy.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” Rachel said distractedly. It was because Rachel was distracted that Eleanor didn’t admonish her for using that horrid moniker that Americans insisted on. No decorum, she tutted in her head. The sound of the front door being opened and Rachel hanging up the phone followed in quick succession, pulling Eleanor’s attention to the approaching footsteps from the hallway. And then in walked her sleepy beauty, glowing still, in her magnetic way, but yawning with all the grace she could manage (which wasn’t all that much).

Eleanor watched, with rapt, searing attention, as Rachel stripped out of her button down and slacks and into a large t-shirt and some shorts before crawling onto the bed beside her and flopping onto her back.

“Did you get it all done?”

“Mmm,” Rachel hummed.

“Good,” Eleanor said as she closed her novel and placed it on the bedside table, sliding down the head board until she too was laying on her back. Caught in the moment of peace she found herself in, she was too late in realising that Rachel was moving.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Hovering above her, Rachel grinned and raised her eyebrows in that suggestive, crass, uncultured way that Eleanor loved. It was a good job she enjoyed it, too, she thought, because Rachel was all those things in spades.

“Just admiring my girlfriend,” Rachel said sweetly. Eleanor was glad she didn’t blush easily, because really, Rachel was a _sap_.

“I’d do the same if she were around for me to admire,” Eleanor said sharply. It was not, of course, as sharp as it once would have been, but Rachel would still know that she disliked the distance they had been experiencing recently.

“Lucky for you then,” Rachel whispered as she leant down, delivering a soft kiss to Eleanor’s lips, “I finished the rest of my marking tonight.”

“Yesterday, you mean.”

Rachel looked over to the clock on the night stand, noting the bright green numbers notifying Rachel that it was in fact quarter passed midnight. Her last lecture had been at five. Looking back to Eleanor and leaning some of her body on top of her lover’s, she again kissed soft, full lips, harder that time.

“I’m sorry I left you so long,” she murmured, her tone achingly apologetic; genuine.

Eleanor tried (no, she really did) to stay upset at Rachel. For nearly two weeks she had been spending over twelve hours at the university lecturing and marking and returning home long after dinner had ended and long after Eleanor had fallen asleep herself. It had been very unpleasant for her when she was used to seeing Rachel for lunches and dinners and afternoons when she had morning lectures or lazy mornings when she had afternoon lectures. And _weekends_! She was used to seeing her lover on the _weekends_!

“Well,” she said, a little softer than her previous, arch tone, “You said it’s all done now?” Rachel nodded solemnly, her eyebrows creased when she was trying to pull Eleanor out of a bad mood. _Goodness, I’m going_ soft, she thought.

“Good.” Eleanor pulled Rachel down the rest of the way, luxuriating in the weight of her lover on top of her and at home at last, and kissing Rachel for long, rejuvenating moments. Rachel, at the beginning of their relationship, had been clearly the better kisser out of the two, but Eleanor was a fast learner and liked to read often, so she soon levelled out the playing field. She might have deepened the kissing and, hmmm, rolled over on top of Rachel. She might have reached under that large t-shirt and felt soft skin that she had not been able to touch for near on a fortnight.

They were all delicious courses of action to take, but when Rachel pulled away from the kiss to yawn then apologise profusely for it, Eleanor tamped down her lust and decided they had all weekend to revel in the new proximity.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, I-”

“You are tired, so am I,” she said, her low voice and crisp intonation soothing rather than admonishing. Rachel knew the difference. Rachel rolled back onto the bed and to the nightstand to shut off her lamp before rolling right back over and throwing an arm and leg over Eleanor. Her cheeky grin was met with a raised brow. Rachel knew Eleanor was not too fond of ‘spooning’ as the professor had called it once (it was a big fat lie, but Eleanor had to guard her dignity _somehow_ ).

“I missed you,” Rachel said quietly into the elegant neck of her girlfriend. The brow lowered, as Rachel knew it would, and a soft, almost silent sigh sounded. Eleanor leaned to shut off her light, and then, bathed in darkness, Eleanor adjusted herself to hold onto Rachel. She really had missed her.

“You must manage your time better, Rachel. This cannot happen again.”

“Hmmm, I know. Make you my priority,” she mumbled back sleepily. Eleanor, in the dark, rolled her eyes and smirked.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Rachel hmphed, pulling Eleanor closer to her. “Mean it,” she said emphatically. “Love you, baby.” And then she was asleep, snoring softly the same way that Eleanor denied she did too.

So caught in Rachel’s words and the love she had for Rachel in return, as she fell to sleep, she didn’t even pretend not to love when Rachel called her baby. She was no longer the sculpted, marble woman she had needed to be as Mrs Young. She was no longer the sort of woman that had to sacrifice herself for her family, she was no longer unaware that she could serve her family and prioritise her own happiness. She was, as some from her homeland might consider her, soft.

But as Rachel hummed in her sleep and pulled her closer again, Eleanor decided that she didn’t mind that. Not one little bit.


End file.
